Never In My Wildest Dreams
by gsrbutterfly
Summary: Sara's having a bad day........ Who will be there to lift her up? Not as stupid as it sounds. lol Please R & R GSR
1. Prologue

**Never In My Wildest Dreams**

**By GSRBUTTERFLY**

Disclaimer

: Don't own it, won't own it, and would if I could, but I don't so tears.

For once in my very short writing career, Tina exists. I know, it is against my style, but tough luck. She doesn't last long.

From Sara's POV

I leaned against the table and drank my tea. If I looked at the crime scene pictures anymore, I would cry. My eyes ached and were tearing. I went over to the line of chairs on the edge of the wall and lied down. Just for a minute. No one came back here because it was just a bunch of rooms that were usually vacated. But I used them to work because they were quiet. Only a couple of minutes, only a couple of minutes, only a couple minut…


	2. Doc Dies

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I awoke to light streaming through the window and the sound of sirens. I looked at my watch and saw that it was two hours after I went to sleep. And the sound of sirens grew to a loud screech and then suddenly stopped. I went out into the hallway to be almost run over by an EMT. I jumped back into the room until they went back into the morgue and then brought their stretcher back to the front, only much slower this time. It was followed by Catherine and Grissom, both of them with a more than somber expression on their faces.

"Whoa, what happened?" I asked, confused and curious.

Catherine opened her mouth to speak, but she choked on her words and ran down the hall. Her hands covered her face, but I knew she was crying. I turned to Grissom with a look of shock and questioning.

"Doc died. It looks like old age." And he walked after the stretcher.

I was shell-shocked. That couldn't happen. He was Doc. He was going to live forever.

I couldn't think about it for long before I got a call on my cell phone. I didn't recognize the number, and was about to not call it when I got a feeling in my stomach that could only mean that something was wrong. I quickly opened my cell to hear a grating voice announcing: "_Hello, I am doctor Grenada Hales. You are the emergency contact of a master Greg Sanders. Earlier today his apartment complex caught on fire, killing Mr. Sanders. We are sorry. We ask you to contact his immediate family in the area so his funeral arrangements can be made. Thank you."_

I just stood there, my phone to my ear, hearing the ringing of the dial tone but not being able to move any of my muscles. Greg, my best friend, was dead? This couldn't be happening. I closed my phone and wandered through the halls, looking for Grissom. I found him in his office, hands placed together in a loose position of someone that was praying. His eyes were closed, and for a second, I thought that maybe he was dead too. But he opened his eyes and asked what was wrong.

"The hospital just called me," I said, throat closing, almost blocking off all noise that could come from my body. "Greg's apartment complex went up in flames. He died." As I was about to walk out, I heard him say,

"I'll call his parents. He was a really good CSI. I want to be the one to tell them that."

Greg would have been so proud to know that Grissom felt that way. If only Grissom could have told him that while he was still alive.

I walked to the reception area to keep leave so I could examine my crime scene again, for working was the only thing that my empty shell could do. Work Work Work. I almost reached the reception area when I saw Tina and Warrick.

"I'm leaving you. I made such a mistake marrying you. You are nothing like David."

"Tina, please, anything that is wrong we can work out…"

"No, I'm gone."

Tina walked away, and Warrick followed her, trying to calm her down. But at that moment, I saw Catherine in the doorway to the woman's bathroom. Her face looked slack, with only anger and sadness as the emotions to fill the void. I tried to say something to her, like to tell her the real contents of their conversation, or the fact that Greg died, but she ran out. I leaned up against the wall and slid down into a sitting position on the floor when my phone started ringing again. _The last time I picked up my phone_, I thought, _it told me that somebody died. Maybe if I don't pick it up… No, that is childish. _So I opened my phone and listened to the other end.

"_Hey Sara, it's Brass. Nick was working in your crime scene when he got poisoned. Something in the air. The doctors said it is Mercury or something. He's in the hospital. He's as mad as a hatter, but I think he wants to see you. Hurry on by. I've got to go to another scene, but I don't want to leave him here by himself."_

I quickly closed my phone and rushed to Desert Palms.


	3. Lindsey's call for help

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Upon arrival at Desert Palms, I went to the receptionist to get his room number, then hurried up to his room. He just lay in the bed, babbling about nonsense. Brass was already standing by the door to go off to his crime scene. Once Brass left, I sat by Nick's bed. I almost cried out: _It's not fair. That was my crime scene. If anyone should be in this hospital bed, mumbling about nothing, because he inhaled poison. Mercury! Of all things, why Mercury. As the saying goes, you get mad as a hatter. But why Nick? Why not me?_

My musings were cut short by the ringing of my cell phone at my hip. _Oh, no. What now? What more can possibly go wrong?_ I thought as I tentatively picked up my phone and examined the caller ID. _Catherine_ it said. _What does Catherine want? Maybe she wants to talk about the Warrick incident. At least I can set that story straight. _

But I was met with a totally different person's voice. Not Catherine's strong, motherly voice, but by Lindsey's small, hysterical voice.

"_Sara, Sara, it's Lindsey. You've got to help me._ What's wrong Lindsey? _My mommy is in the tub, but she's not moving. She has her gun in it with her and I think she shot herself. _Lindsey, listen to me very carefully. I want you to call 911 now and tell them everything you just told me, and tell them where you live. Do you know your address? _Of course I do. _Good. I'll be over there as soon as possible. And Lindsey._ Yes? _Don't worry. It'll be all right."

And with this lie escaping my lips, I closed the phone. _Catherine, you can't leave me now. Please, let her live._ I told Nick that I had to leave, but I would be back as soon as possible. He didn't even know that I was there, let alone that I was leaving, so I slipped out the door and ran to my car. On the way there, I called the person that loved Catherine more than anyone could believe, even though he wouldn't admit it. I dialed his number and waited for him to answer.

_Brown._ Warrick? It's Sara. _Hey Sara. _Listen, Catherine saw you with Tina and got the wrong impression. I think it was just too much for her. Lindsey just called me and told me that she was in the tub, shot, with her gun. I have a feeling it was a suicide. I have a lot of things going on right now, so can you please come over to Cath's house to help me with Lindsey?

With this, I heard the beep that told me that he hung up. I was worried that he wouldn't come, but he was there before I was, hugging Lindsey and being the support that she needed. I walked in and almost puked at the scene. Catherine was in the tub, head laid back against the edge of the tub, eyes rolled back in her head, bullet hole at her temple. Because there was no one else in there, I started processing the scene. That was all I could do. _Work, work, work. Is that what has become of my life? Work?_

I had been working for what seemed like ages, when my cell phone went off. I checked the caller ID. It said _Grissom, _so I picked it up. If he died too, I don't know what I'd do.

"Grissom, are you O.K.? _Of course, Sara. Why wouldn't I be?_ Everyone is dying. _Well, you've got one more. Brass was at a scene and got shot. I need you to come over and help me. Please?_ O.K. I'll be over. And Grissom. _What? _Just be careful, O.K. It just seems like today is not going well."

And with that, I hung up. I left the scene of one of my best friends' murder to go to another of my friend's murder.

I got to the scene to find Grissom standing over Brass, who had a bullet hole through his neck. For, it had to have the third time this day, I wanted to puke. My friends were dropping like flies. All I did was work the scene. That's all I can do. Work, work, work.

Once we were done with the collection, we got in our separate cars and headed for the lab. All of a sudden, I remembered. _Nick! _I turned my car around and sped towards the hospital, breaking every speeding law that was ever made. But upon arriving at the hospital, I was met with yet another crime scene. I jumped out of my truck and ran over to the crime scene tape. Once I saw the scene before me, the bile rose so high in my throat that I thought I would seriously spew. Nick lay face down on the pavement, every bone in his body obviously crushed. It looked like he was trying to fly, and didn't. _You idiot_ I thought, _he was babbling that he would try to fly. This is your entire fault! _I ran. I ran to the car, but I couldn't get in. I ran to the lab, which was conveniently close. I burst through the door, to find Warrick with his protective arms around Lindsey. I needed someone's shoulder to cry on, someone to support me. I know that I sound needy, but I had just broken down. Every muscle screamed out in pain, my heart had broken into a million pieces. I ran to a place where I had always felt safe. Grissom's office.

And all I was met with was a sight that could have killed me any normal day. But today it was too much. I saw, through the blinds of the windows to his office, Grissom and Sofia. His arms were wrapped around her, her arms wrapped around him, and his lips were in Sofia's hair. I felt trapped; the walls were closing in around me. I turned and did the only thing I could do to protect my pride. I ran. I let my legs carry me wherever they wanted.

And I ended up in the room in which I started this horrible day. The little room in the back of the lab, which contained my crime scene photos, still laid out on the table. I went over to the chairs in the corner of the room and did the only 2 things I could do anymore. I screamed, and I cried…


	4. Grissoms point of view

Grissom POV

I got up from my desk to stretch my legs when I heard a scream. It was faint, but still blood-curdling scream. I exited my office and hurried down the hall. No one else seemed to have noticed. _Could I be imagining things?_ My legs and senses brought me to the back of the lab where there were rooms that no one used. _Why would anyone be back here?_

I turned into one of the rooms and was surprised to see who my screamer was.

Sara was sitting bolt upright in the chair, but her legs were on the other chairs. Her eyes were closed, but even her eyelids couldn't prevent the escape of the tears that began their journey down her face.

"Sara" I said lightly, but she didn't respond. Then I realized something. _She is asleep. _So I said her name louder, hoping to wake her up.

She woke up, but she kept screaming. And crying. I kneeled down next to her and took her shoulders in my hands. After a few minutes her thin, frail frame was still shaking, but the tears subsided a little bit. She opened her eyes. They were full of fright and fury. But when I started to say her name, she started talking.

"Everyone is dead. No one is left. No one to be there… no one left."

"What are you talking about," I asked, for I couldn't see where this was coming from.

"Doc died, then Greg died in a fire… you said you wanted to tell his parents because he was a great CSI, and then Tina broke up with Warrick, and Catherine thought that they were talking about… I don' no but she thought wrong and went home and killed herself, then…"

She just broke down, saying something about everyone, until her talking was completely replaced by sobs. I did the only thing I could think of doing. I stood up and pulled her to my chest, wrapping my arms around her in the process.

"Shhhh, it's all right. No one is dead. Tina did break up with Warrick, but Catherine was there to pick up the pieces. And I would never be with Sofia, especially if you were sad." And then I felt something. Her forehead against my chest. I just barely noticed that it was hot, so hot that I could feel the heat through my shirt. Before I could say anything, she moved to walk back to the layout table, as if to keep working, but her knees buckled underneath her and she almost hit the floor. I did my best to catch her, but she did more than I did. Once I had pulled her up into a standing position, she held on to me so tight I couldn't have pried her away if I had wanted to.

But soon I felt the heat from her forehead searing through my shirt. I tried to pull her back a little so I could slip my hand up to her forehead, but she clung tighter.


	5. The end

"Relax, it's O.K. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here. Don't worry," I said, and she loosened her grasp just enough to let me slide my hand up to her forehead. It almost hurt my hand when it touched her forehead. But soon there was a voice from the door.

"Hey. I heard a scream," Catherine said," What's going on?"

"Catherine!" Sara said through tears, and she went over to hug her, telling her about how she died, and how happy she was that she wasn't dead.

I was so happy with Catherine right then. She didn't look judgmental or anything. She just held her close and comforted her. But when she looked at me over Sara's shoulder, I saw a very questioning look.

"She has a fever I think," I mouthed, placing my hand on Sara's back, "and I think she had a nightmare. She said something about everyone dying."

Catherine made an "O" shape with her mouth and continued comforting the visibly shaken Sara.

"Listen Sara," Catherine said, "Grissom and I are going to take you home." I looked at her incredulously. _I'm taking her home?_

Sara tried to stop her, telling her that she would be fine by herself, but Catherine pushed her into my arms.

"I'll go tell the guys that you too are leaving and that I'm going to come back in a little while to be supervisor. You," she said, pointing a perfectly manicured nail at me," are going to take her out to the truck and wait for me there."

And with that she left, leaving us to just follow her instructions to avoid the wrath of a very pissed off Catherine. I escorted her out to the truck to wait for Catherine. Sara seemed to be dozing off while waited and I took the time to look at her. She is beautiful, but she seems helpless. She was lightly sweating, and her body seemed so thin and… fragile. _Fragile, never a word I would think to use for Sara, but it was true. She seemed very fragile. _

Finally Catherine came, climbed into the driver's seat, and started driving to Sara's apartment.

Once we arrived, Sara climbed out sleepily and Catherine and I followed. My hand took up what seemed like a natural residence on her back as we went to the door to her apartment complex. But once we went in, she moved to go up the stairs, even though there were numerous elevators. Catherine grabbed her wrist and guided us over to the vacant elevators. Sara started to oppose, but Catherine was a woman on a mission, giving neither of us much in the way of a choice.

We soon were in Sara's apartment. Catherine said, "Sara, you get in the tub and get some sleep. Just get better, O.K.?" Sara nodded and went inside.

"And you are going to stay her and watch her."

"But… I don't know what to do!"

"Jesus, she is sick Gil, just take care of her. Take her temperature, make her something to eat. Make sure she sleeps, that kind of stuff. And if I see either of you in work before she gets better, heads will roll."

And with that not-so-empty threat, she left, leaving me to fend for myself.

So I went in and did what she told me to do. I cooked her some vegetable soup for when she came out of the shower.

I hardly noticed the water turning off and Sara coming out of the back hallway. But when I did notice, I was floored. She looked beautiful, with wet, curling hair, and a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. She stood next to me and asked, "How can I help."

"Just sit down. It'll be ready in a minute."

"You know, you don't have to stay. If you leave, I'll tell Catherine that it is my fault that you left and that I kicked you out."

"Well, if I'm not being kicked out, I would like to stay. I wanna make sure you are o.k."

"O.K." she replied, and started setting the table, completely not heeding my instructions to just sit.

Soon the soup was done and eaten.

"If you don't mind, can I take your temperature? It seemed like you had a high temperature back at the lab. I just wanted to know if you still had one."

"Don't own a thermometer."

"What?"

"I don't own a thermometer, because if I do get sick, I still won't stop whatever I planned on doing anyway, so what is the point."

"Then the next thing on the schedule is sleep."

"I want to ask you something, but if you get mad at me, I'm blaming it completely on the illness."

"What do you want to ask?"

"Do you remember the Kay Shelton case?"

"Yes, I'll never forget that one."

"Do you remember my offer?"

"Yes," I said, know exactly where this one was going, and liking it.

"Well?"

"Please tell me you are asking me to sleep with you."

With this blatant statement, she just blushed and nodded. She looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

"God I love you."

She looked up at me, pure shock on her face. My face must have reflected hers, because I was definitely shocked. But she said something that allayed all fears.

"I love you too."

And after that we went to bed. Together. And after that experience, being able to hold a sleeping Sara in my arms, I never planned on going to sleep alone again.


End file.
